#so parrots can’t even fly on a harness around here. you have to get an aviary or clip their wings which is awful. flighted birds should fly

[cykes-dono]

[ID: A meme of two hands firmly holding one another. One is labeled “parrots” and the other is ”chameleons”. Where they meet is labeled “animals with husbandry needs so exacting that they probably shouldnt be kept as pets” End ID]

Don’t hate me but I really believe the world would be a better place if pigeons were the ubiquitous avian pet instead of parrots 👀

[go-diane-winchester]

I had a dream 5 years ago, when I had no issues with Misha.  Too bad his stupid ass destiel fans wont allow something like this to happen.  Neither would he, because who is going to troll his dumb fans if he is busy contributing to the SPN canon.

There are some parts of this dream that I forgot.  There are some that don't make sense, but duh! its a dream.  I am writing it like a story so its wont be boring.  I am going to embellish harmless bits and pieces here and there, so its not bland.  

My dream starts in a motel room.  The old kind from the pre-bunker era.  I miss the motel rooms.  Sam is channel surfing, with a remote in his hand whilst reclining in an��arm chair, and Dean is lying on his bed, reading a magazine.  I am very surprised because I seldom see fuddy duddy Sam actually watching TV.  He is usually squinting at a lap top screen.  They look seriously chilled out and I am happy about that.  There is a knock on the door. 

Dean:  [hollering] We don't need anything, thanks.

Cas:  Its me, Dean.  Open the door.

Dean and Sam look at each other surprised.  I was surprised too.  Why isn't he flying in uninvited, like he usually does?  Sam opens the door and finds a very busted up Cas.  He is missing his trench coat, his suit jacket and shoes.  He has a swollen eye, bust lip and blood running down one nostril. 

The brothers help him into the room and make him sit.  Sam runs for a glass of water.  It is only when I woke up and relayed this story to my cousin gleefully, that I realized that Sam wouldn't need to give an angel water.  But its a dream so just go with it.  Dean is assuming, as I am, that a monster attacked Cas.

Dean:  What did this to you?

Cas:  Youth.  Around 15 years old. 

Dean and Sam stare and him and then at each other. 

Sam:  Children beat you up? 

Cas:  Yes, and stole my possessions. 

Sam:  Kids beat you up and stole your stuff...how did they manage to do that?  And why didn't you stop them?

Cas:  There were five of them.  And they had bicycles.  But the time I got up of the ground, they were gone.  They pedaled very fast...  I lost my grace. 

Dean:  Again?  Dude you are clumsiest angel in the garrison.  Why don't you sew it to the inside of your underwear so you won’t lose it. 

Sam:  How did you lose your grace?

Cas:  It’s a long story and not important right now.  I need your help. 

Sam:  Sure man.  What do you need? 

Cas:  Some people are trying to resurrect an ancient demon.  They made it their god.  Humans cant fight this thing.  Only warrior angels can put it to sleep...using their grace.  We did it before. 

Dean:  But you don't have your grace.  Why don't you ask one of your brothers to do the job. 

Cas:  Because, they hate me.  None of my brothers wants to talk to me.  I betrayed them, remember?  They said that the next time they seem me, they will kill me.  Only the cherubs are on talking terms with me.  I hitched a ride with one of them to get here.  The cherubs are weak.  They cant fight, otherwise I would have given the job to them. 

Dean:  So you have a monster that we can't kill.  You can’t either.  Your brothers don't want to see your face.  So what kind of help can we give you?

Cas:  You have to teach me how to procreate. 

Dean and Sam:  HUH!

Cas:  I am still an angel.  I have power.  It’s this power that is making this vessel move.  My energy source is switched off. 

Dean:  Like a battery pack?

Cas:  Yes, like a battery pack.  So I need a new one. 

Dean [grinning]:  And sex does that for you?  [Sam puts on his bitchface]

Cas:  No, but a child will.  My child will have my grace.  I can harness it to put this creature to sleep.

Sam: [disapprovingly] And what about the kid after that.

Cas:  There are plenty of single mothers in the world.  I know this sounds manipulative.  But this half angel child will be strong and won’t need me.  But right now, the world needs it.  Will you help me?

Dean: [horrified] You want the birds and the bees talk?  Oh, please say no.

Sam:  I'm going to get pizza.  You go ahead, Dean.

Sam rushes out of the room, living a pissed off Dean to glare at his retreating form. 

Cas:  I am not stupid.  I know how everything works.  [Dean sighs with relieve]  I need to know how to get a female to procreate with me. 

Dean blinks at him, and eventually smiles a mischievous smile. 

Dean:  Oh, that part's easy.  Just ask very politely ''Excuse me, mam.  Would you like to make a baby with me?''  If she says yes, good.  If not, keep asking every female you meet.  One is bound to say yes.

I remember thinking 'Dean, you rascal!'. 

Cas [squinting his eyes at Dean]: That works? 

Dean:  Oh sure.  Just get cleaned up first. 

Dean dresses Cas in white Bermuda shorts, a loud red and parrot Hawaiian shirt and a white fedora adorned with an oversized feather.  If this was an actual episode, there would be a reason he would have those items of clothing, but since it’s my dream, I got nuthin'.  I remember feeling mortified but Dean looks red because he is trying so hard not to laugh. 

Cas steps outside and Dean wishes him good luck.  As Cas is walking down the corridor, one of the doors open, and a lady steps out of her room, wearing a beige peignoir set.  She lights a cigarette.  Cas walks up to her, smiling. 

Cas:  Good evening, Mam.  You are looking very lovely.  Would you like to make a baby with me?

I remember feeling second hand embarrassment.  The lady looks at Cas's grinning face, with wide shocked eyes.  Who could blame her?  Then she shrugs.

The lady:  Sure!

She escorts him into her room. 

We cut back to Sam hitting Dean with a rolled up magazine.  Dean is laughing despite the abuse. 

Dean:  If you want things done right, do them yourself.  Nobody told you to leave me on the lurch. 

Sam:  What if someone beats him up, you jerk? 

Cas:  That never happened.  It went well.  Thanks Dean. 

Sam:  You just appeared.  You have power! 

Cas:  Yes, I can fly now and I repaired my vessel.

Sam:  What did you do?

Cas:  I did exactly was Dean told me to do.  I, very politely, asked a lady if she would like to make a baby with me.  She said yes. 

Sam:  It worked? 

Cas:  As you can see, yes it did. 

Sam and Dean stare at each other slack jawed. 

Sam:  I guess, some women are just desperate to become mothers. 

Dean nods sagely at him. 

Some time goes by.  The brothers are in another motel sitting at the dining table and Cas appears, dressed in his trench coat.  Don’t ask where it came from. 

Cas:  I need your help.  My child is in danger.

Sam and Dean are shocked.

Sam:  What happened?

Cas:  I don't know.  But he is in an enclosed place.  He can’t get out.  And he's scared. 

Sam and Dean look at each other, trying to hide their smiles.

Sam:  That enclosed place is his mother's womb.  It’s only been a month.  He is going to be in that enclosed place for a long time.  Then he will be born.  Don't worry.

Cas:  That is how it works for humans.  This child is half angel.  Things are different with us.

Dean:  Are you sure?

Cas:  I can sense him.  He communicates with me.  I know he is in danger.  Please.  I need your help. 

Sam:  Sure Cas.  What do you want us to do?

Cas:  When I fly, I lose touch with him.  If I am riding in your car, it will be slower and I will be able to locate him. 

Dean:  That's it?  Fine.  Lets go. 

Baby pulls up next to a cave mouth, in the desert.  The guys go into the cave.  Cas goes to the back of the cave and points at the ground.

Cas:  He's here. 

Dean and Sam are suddenly very serious.  The boys get shovels and start digging, as Cas stands to the side, staring earnestly at them.  Suddenly, Sam drops his shovel and walks away.  Dean follows him.

Dean:  Sam? What’s wrong?

Sam:  Dean, I’m freaking out.

Dean:  Sammy, calm down.  Tell me why you’re freaking out. 

Sam:  Dean, do you realize what we are doing?  We are digging up a baby’s grave.  I have never seen a dead baby before. 

Dean [realization on his face]  I haven’t either.  Oh shit….You know what.  I’ll handle it.  Don’t worry.  Sit this one out.

Sam:  Dean, I’m sorry.

Dean:  Sammy, it’s ok.  Don’t feel guilty.  Stay here.  I will tell you to come closer if I’m sure that whatever we dig up won’t damage you more than you already are. 

Dean goes back, and flings Sam’s shovel into Cas’s hand.  They start digging.  Finally, one of the shovel hits something.  The hole was damn deep and Dean immediately scrambles out of the grave and runs to Sam’s side.  Whatever needs to be seen, let Cas see it.  Dean cant stomach the thought of seeing a dead baby.  Sam looks away and Dean stares gingerly as Cas climbs out of the grave and pulls out a big pine box, with sigils etched into it.  There is a large chain around the box, with a huge lpadlock fastened.  Cas breaks the chain and padlock with his bare hands, and flips the lid open.  He stoops and pulls out a kid of about a year and half, with long shaggy brown hair.  Dean [and Sam too apparently] go close to take a look. The kid looks fast asleep.   

Dean:  Is he….?

Cas:  He’s fine.  Let’s get him out of here.

They are relieved but when they turn to leave, they freeze.  There is someone standing at the entrance.  Dean and Sam pull out their guns.

Dean:  Who are you?  What do you want?

The mysterious person steps forward.  It’s Meg.

Meg:  Well, I wanted to stop you, but obviously I am late. 

Dean:  Stop us from doing what?

Meg:  Digging up the box, you idiot.  I went through all the effort of making the box as protective as possible and burying it as deep as possible, but if anyone can go looking for unnecessary trouble, it’s you three jinxes. 

Cas looks at her disappointed. 

Cas:  Oh no. 

Meg:  Oh yes. 

Cas:  How could you be so stupid?

Meg:  Because I loved you.  And the curiosity was killing me.  And I was trying to be helpful.  What, with your broken battery pack and all.  If I were you, just bury him before he wakes up.  I am petrified of him.  Let that clue you in on how dangerous he can be. 

She disappears.  Dean looks at Cas confused.  Then realization hits him.

Dean:  That is why that dumb pick-up line worked.  The woman was possessed by Meg. 

Sam:  What do we do now? 

Dean:  Bury it.

Sam:  What!?

Dean:  You heard her.  Bury it before it wakes up. 

Cas:  There has to be another way.

Dean:  Another way?  Like what?  How are angel-demon hybrids usually dealt with. 

Sam [after realizing Cas doesn’t have an answer]:  Cas, is this kid the first of his kind?

Cas:  Yes.

Sam:  Oh shit. 

Dean:  You have to kill it. 

Sam:  Dean!

Dean:  Sam I know this sounds cruel.  But nobody on earth has dealt with this type of creature before.  Meg is afraid of it.  What if this thing wakes up –

Cas:  Then I will deal with it. 

Dean:  Cas don’t be stupid. 

Cas:  Put yourself in my shoes. 

Dean:  This is not right.  This creature could kill you. 

Sam [To Cas, pointedly]:  Its ok , Cas.  I understand. 

Dean [To Sam]:  Do you?

Sam:  Yes!  You don’t have to like it Dean.  I can understand your concerns.  But it’s his kid.  Have a heart. 

Dean:  Screw the two of you.  I am not going to clean up this mess.  This is all on you two.  I want no part of this. 

And then Dean disappears.  No, that was not a special plot point.  That was my dream growing crazy stupid.  Suddenly there is a four poster brass bed in the cave.  Cas lays the little boy on the bed and lays down next to him.  Sam stands over them.

Sam:  He’s freaked out.  That’s why he’s behaving like that.  But don’t worry Cas.  I will stand by your side.  I will support you. 

Cas: [with a weak smile] That’s mean a lot to me, right now. 

And then Sam disappears.  And then my dream must have shifted to something else or my sleep just broke.  I don’t remember. 

The End

[rarestereocats]

We all step into the new captain's quarters to go over what our next plan of action.  We need to gather as many useful crew members as we can in this town or we'll be stuck in port for awhile.  We decide doing some recon is a must in this place,  so well part ways to tackle this task.  TT and Antic visit the library to collect records on any nearby penal colonies,  Owkbanok and Inami collect information on the whereabouts of several plantations,  Amelia and Tonari get word of a prisoner ship coming in the next day as well as a slave ship arriving in a month's time,  and me and Nathan case the prison by magical means as I jot down anything that may be of use to our plan.  With that,  we all reconvene to swap information and go over everything.  The penal colonies are off on some islands and given that we can't get out of the port without a crew to row our ship,  that's off the table for the time being.

The prisoners on the ship will likely be taken to the prison in town,  so our best options are a prison break or hitting up the largest plantation in the area to liberate the slaves and hope we can recruit them.  Hitting the prison first will have all eyes on us,  so we decide to go do some recon on the plantation and hit that first.  It's a few hours out of town,  so we hitch a carriage ride,  the driver a young human man by the name of Finn who's fate was sealed the minute TT whispered to me that we should kill him afterwards.  After all,  he might hear things he shouldn't and we don't want him turning around and selling our asses out and as the ride goes on,  we all start to make him more than uncomfortable.  With each word out of our mouths,  Finn grows more and more scared as we hint to an early death for him and ask him needlessly personal questions that trigger his alarm bells even further.

This boy's sweating up a storm and trying to convince us that he's never exposed anyone's secrets and doing anything he can to butter us up so he doesn't die tonight and for awhile,  we all consider leaving him be once this is all said and done.  But upon reaching our destination,  I can't take the risk of our plan being passed along to the town guards,  so I ask dear Finn for a hug.  He's hesitant,  but after a moment,  leans in for an uncomfortable hug and promptly gets my dagger to his spine and his body deposited in the nearby rose bush.  We take a gander at the land before us,  taking note of the guards and fields themselves,  but also where the slaves are kept in the evening.  With that,  our current plan is to have Owkbanok go in and pose as a slave as this is a human owned property and it appears any half-orcs here are kept as such,  so his presence as anything other than that might be alarming.  So we hold onto his gear for him so it isn't stolen away and with that,  the rest of us go to speak with the owner of the property.

It's all to gain entry into his home so we can take him out later to free the slaves,  but for now,  we all exchange pleasantries and pretend to make a deal to buy a couple tons of grain.  The deal's set and we ask for a place to stay and this clueless man offers us rooms so long as we pay half of what we agreed upon for the grain.  This works wonderfully for our plan as a gnoll servant leads us to the rooms,  TT asks her to leave her master's bedroom door unlocked and we'll all keep her safe.  There's only three rooms,  so TT and Nathan take one of their own,  leaving me and Amelia to share a bedroom.  And as the Slut Squad usually does,  we pound it out (I swear it's just to pass the time) and it's in this moment that I realize there's something different about her.  Did she do something with her hair?  Is it her perfume?  No,  you see,  everybody;  Amelia here isn't as human as she claims to be.

She's a changeling;  the offspring of hags and beings that hear a spiritual "call" to discover their origins after a certain age.  Now Amelia knows her parents...or what she's assumed are her true parents.  The King and Queen of Carlo Rose,  two perfectly normal humans.  She has no idea about this changeling stuff and is offended when I bring it up and tell her about how a hag is her mother.  She's in denial and doesn't believe me,  which is fair considering my wild conspiracy theories I lay on this party when I'm high,  but still;  I've hunted enough magical beings to know their true natures when I see them.  It's clear it's something she's not willing to entertain though,  so I drop the subject.  Though c'mon,  what's better than boning and then immediately trying to make somebody question their own humanity afterwards??  With the silence becoming uncomfortable and Cayde losing his shit at the door because Owkbanok's in trouble,  I get up to take him outside as I'm thinking he just wants to go run around.

It's very clear once I step out that he doesn't want to play as there's the stench of blood in the air and Cayde is still losing his mind.  Because while the rest of us were getting cozy,  poor Owkbanok was getting manhandled by guards and having no choice but to grin and bear it for the sake of the plan.  He gets a little too lippy with them and after he punches one of them in the face,  they demand he go gather up the other slaves so they can bear witness to his punishment.  This gives him the perfect opportunity to pick some of their brains about the revolt one of the guards mentioned and he learns the slaves have been planning it for a month.  They easily outnumber the guards and have been stashing some weapons for when it all goes down,  to which Owkbanok ensures them that it'll happen soon enough.  Once he gathers the crowd,  the guards make an example out of him,  whipping him within an inch of his life before going back to their posts and some orcs kindly drag him back to their cabin so he can rest.

Knowing Owk's in trouble,  I secure his sword and some healing potions to Cayde's harness and turn the leopard loose.  He manages to sneak through the property,  finding the orc cabin and pushing his way through the rotted wood in the back to avoid the guard posted at the front door,  and Owk's relieved and grateful to see the care package.  The other orcs help him stash his weapon as it's more than clear that the revolution begins tonight and back at the manor,  the rest of us have reconvened in one of the bedrooms to figure out the next step.  TT's going to sneak into the bedroom to take out the guard that's been posted in the master's chambers and then take him out afterwards,  and possibly even his wife.  But her plan falls to pieces as the guard doesn't immediately die from her attack and she trips,  stumbling back through the bedroom door and into the hallway,  alerting the rest of us that it's go time.  I take out the master easily enough,  Cayde mauling his wife afterwards,  but the guard manages to slip past us like he's a walking stick of butter until Nathan puts a crossbow bolt in his back.

With Amelia's new guard zombie,  Shaun (of the Dead),  kicking down the glass door to the outdoor world while we all scream about a riot,  the slaves on the property know it's go time.  Owkbanok immediately sets his sights on the guard he nearly whipped him to death,  hitting him with some scorching rays while TT works on toppling the guard towers.  Nathan sets one on fire and me and Cayde just work on culling the herd of guards that are quickly getting overwhelmed with the entire situation.  It's not a good day for any of them considering we're not even giving them an inch to breathe nor surrender and anybody that tries to flee is taken down easily enough.  In all the chaos,  some of the slaves take this as a chance to escape themselves,  so when the dust finally settles,  there's only a whopping 28 of them left and the 3 house servants who were busy packing up loot for us during the battle.

Owkbanok gives them a speech,  letting them know who we really are and that we're seeking recruits.  They don't have to come along,  but anyone who does gets 300 gold for signing on and 25 of them agree to join,  28 once we ask the house servants to join us.  We can't take a bunch of liberated slaves into town,  so TT has her parrot fly back to the ship with a note to tell our crew to meet us at the shoreline with the rowboats so the slaves can get directly to the ship.  TT and Owkbanok handle escorting the slaves to the shoreline while me and Amelia gather up the valuable horses and loot and go directly back to town.  Understandably,  the ruckus has caught somebody's attention finally and as a squadron of guards tries to stop us on the road;  we both pretend to panic and fear for our lives.  These guards nearly catch our bluff,  but we escape by the skin of our teeth and once back in the town,  we quickly load up the horses and get settled for the night.

The other group is gone for  h o u r s as the shoreline was much farther than they anticipated.  They travel through the night and morning,  all of them dead tired when the shores are finally in sight and they all clamber aboard the rowboats.  While we're all worried for our crewmates,  me and Amelia take our stress out on each other,  bickering like a couple who's spent 40 years too many together.  We take verbal jab after jab until things turn physical as she goes to kick me,  but I flawlessly trip her ass...only for her to trip me to the ground with her after.  It seems the wires that separate "arguing" and "foreplay" have gone terribly amiss for the two of us cuz while our friends are out there struggling to get back;  we decide to have yet another tryst in order to forget about our problems.  Eventually,  the others finally arrive back by nightfall and we can all take a breather and help our new crew get settled in before we tackle the prison break.

[gumnut-logic]

Access Denied

Title: Access Denied

Author: Gumnut

24 – 25 Jul 2018

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015

Rating: Mature (for some violence)

Summary: He found a way.

Word count: 5650

Spoilers & warnings: Season 2 in general. Occurs sometime before 2.07 Home on the Range. Also there is some violence in this fic and some bits are kinda creepy. Virgil!Whump

Author's note: Ever wondered how the events of Home on the Range were made possible? Many thanks to the wonderful welcome I have received in this fandom. Here I am again stretching my writing muscles with a fic a little different again from the previous one. I hope you enjoy a little whump, because even I feel sorry for Virgil in this one. My next fic will have to be fluffy to him to make up for it. Ouch!

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother. Scenes parroted from the episodes are definitely not mine.

Chapter 1

 “Why does it always have to be snow? I hate snow.”

 “It’s only water, Gordon. I thought you loved that stuff.”

 “Only in degrees above zero.”

 Thunderbird Two banked to port as Virgil sought out a place to land. Landing on ice was one thing, landing on a glacier, a river of fractured ice, was a completely different kettle of fish. At least the weather was being kind. Blue skies, almost no wind. If it wasn’t a rescue, it would make a beautiful painting.

 Well, except for the massive scar of black meltwater that led to the downed air freighter in the middle of said glacier. This one was going to be a challenge.

 Fortunately, the site was a relatively close one, being halfway down New Zealand’s South Island, so International Rescue had managed a fast response. Scott was already here, obviously doing a thorough site assessment, TB1 hovering quite a distance above the wreck.

 “Thunderbird Two, welcome to the party. We have a single air freighter. Three lifesigns. No contact since initial distress call. Cockpit is embedded in the glacier, looks like we are going to have to dig them out.”

 “FAB, Thunderbird One. Locating a suitable landing site. On the ground asap.”

 “Watch that ice. It’s fragile.”

 “Noted.”

 Of course, it was fragile, it was ice. Virgil forced himself not to roll his eyes.

 Scans revealed a chunk of rock half covered by snow, not far from the site, just big enough to support TB2. As Virgil deployed the VTOL gear, most of that snow was blown off. The clunk of her landing gear hitting rock, reassuring.

 Sure, he had landed on ice many times before, but the fractured, rippled surface of the glacier below just screamed melt and die.

 “So how are we going to get down there?”

 “You’re not going down there. You’re staying here. I’ll take the exo-suit and zipline down. You’re on retrieval.”

 “Fine by me.”

 Virgil levelled a look at his brother.

 “What? I’ll keep an eye on you.”

 Ignoring him, Virgil flipped a switch. “Thunderbird One, zipline it is. Recommend you stay in the air in case we need to stabilise the vehicle.”

 “FAB, Virgil.”

 -o-o-o-

 Virgil loved his exo-suit. Sure, it could be awkward and clunky sometimes, but it enabled him to do so much. It had helped him save so many people.

 And in what way was having your own super-suit not totally cool?

 When Brains had first come to him with the idea, he had jumped on it. He could see the possibilities. Of course, the teasing that had initially resulted from four brothers was a lot to be borne, but hey, super-suit!

 Totally worth it.

 As he rolled his shoulders back into the metal skeleton and slid his arms into the sleeves, he felt himself relax just that little. The equipment hummed and enveloped him, the framework connecting with his boots, re-enforcing his legs, and thoroughly encasing his spine.

 He stepped forward, the whine of servos playing in concert with his every move. It always reminded him of the look on Alan’s face during testing. For some reason seeing his older brother doing the Robot Dance in a robotic suit had fried his brain.

 “Gordon, deploy zipline. Ice pick grapple.”

 “Copy that.” The clunk and whistle of the forward launcher echoed through the ship’s frame. A moment later, Gordon joined him in the pod bay and Virgil raised the body of his ‘Bird, activating the pod bay door.

 There wasn’t much in the way of wind, but the air was brisk. The roar of Thunderbird One was a continual, but familiar background noise.

 “God, why can’t people crash on tropical islands once in a while?” Gordon’s breath puffed and clouded around his face. Virgil was quite happy to have his helmet on.

 Double checking his supplies, he hooked the bag of equipment to the zipline pulley and sent it spinning down to the crash site.

 Gordon checked and double checked his harness, before giving him the thumbs up – zipline is go.

 “Thanks, Gordon.”

 A hook onto a pulley, a staggering run and he was flying across glacier. A few seconds of weightlessness and racing white, and his boots skidded in snow, coming up hard against solid ice. He grunted, gaining back his balance before releasing himself from the line.

 Nothing put size into more perspective that being on the ground. He was surrounded by a sea of cracked and jagged ice. The freighter had ploughed into the side of one of the many crevasses, its snout embedding itself in the crevasse wall just below the surface. With a bit of luck and the right equipment, he should be able to break through the crumbled ice above the cockpit and enter through the top of the vehicle.

 “Thunderbird One, recommend you secure the backend of the freighter. I don’t know how stable she is. Removing weight here may alter the balance.” And send her plummeting down that great gaping hole.

 “FAB, Virgil. Deploying grapple.” There was a whoosh and an almighty thunk as TB1’s huge electromagnet made contact. “Grapple secure.”

 And Virgil started digging.

 A combination of shovel, claw and laser work did the job. Fortunately, the cockpit was only a couple of metres below the surface, so it didn’t take long, the exo-suit taking most of the punishment.

 “I’ve reached the outer skin. Thunderbird One, can you give me confirmation on my position. I’m not going to hit anything explosive if I cut through here?”

 “Negative, Virgil. You are directly above the cockpit. She is lying at an angle, so you’ll actually be going in through her upper port sector. All clear.”

 “FAB.” Standing in icy dross, his feet slightly apart, Virgil recalibrated his laser and cut a seventy-five centimetre diameter hole in the fuselage beneath him. “Any further response from the crew?” They had to have heard him.

 “Negative.”

 Damn. That was never a good sign.

 Using the pincers on his left arm, Virgil peeled back the metal.

 -o-o-o-

 Scott stretched in his seat, rolling his shoulders. Skyhook duty was notoriously boring. But Virgil was right. They couldn’t risk it.

 When John had interrupted their breakfast, Scott hadn’t been surprised. Virgil, on the other hand, hadn’t had his breakfast interrupted. He’d been dragged out of bed, by Gordon. Scott had no doubt that the aquanaut enjoyed every minute of it.

 Scott, in turn, had made sure his bed-head of a brother had taken some coffee and a power bar with him.

 And here they were.

 Scott yawned.

 Maybe he should have had a power bar too. Or extra coffee. Extra coffee sounded nice.

 “Thunderbird One, I’m receiving a strange power reading from the freighter. Has Virgil reported in yet?”

 “He’s cutting the fuselage now. What kind of reading?” Scott sat up straighter in his seat.

 “I’m not sure-“

 “SHIT! Get-“ Virgil’s voice cut through everything. And then cut out.

 “Virgil!” Nothing. “Virgil?”

 “I have him on my scanner, Scott. He is still outside the freighter.” John’s hologram frowned even more. “He’s not moving.”

 His pulse hit the inside of his skull. “Thunderbird Two, do you have eyes on Virgil?”

 “Negative.” Gordon’s voice was strained. “He’s still in that hole.”

 “Virgil!”

 No response.

 Scott flung up his restraints. “I’m going down for an eyes on. John, what’s with that power reading?”

 “I’m still not sure. Working on it.”

 “Keep me apprised.” He grabbed his jet pack, opened the cockpit and jumped.

 Darting down, he approached the excavation from a shallow angle, enabling him to peer over the edge without exposing himself.

 Virgil lay on his back, halfway up the side of the hole he’d dug. But he wasn’t still. His head was thrashing side to side, his torso struggling within the confines of the suit, but the suit appeared non-responsive, both legs held out straight and not moving. A malfunction?

 “Virgil?”

 His head turned and fixed on Scott. His brother’s eyes were wide and his lips were moving. He was shouting, but Scott couldn’t hear him. A comms malfunction?

 Scott eyed the open hole in the freighter. No-one was making a sound. No one seemed have come out. All the bootprints in the snow and ice clearly belonged to his brother.

 But then there was John’s strange power reading.

 “Virgil?” He let his feet hit the ground and Virgil started shaking his head vigorously. Scott stopped at the edge.

 But Virgil suddenly moved, his left side bending backwards at an angle it was never meant to bend. His brother screamed. And this time he heard it in full digital stereo.

 Oh, god. Instinct took over and he rushed in.

 Only to have his arm grabbed by Virgil’s right claw.

 -o-o-o-

   Chapter 2

 The moment Virgil pulled away the fuselage, several somethings flew out of the resulting hole.

 Whatever they were, they buzzed and immediately attacked him, one landing on his right arm, the other on his left, and there was another one…somewhere.

 He jumped backwards, awkwardly attempting to shake them off himself. “SHIT! Get off me!” Electricity sparked across the metal of his suit and burnt into his shoulders. He yelled in pain. There was a scuttling and Virgil realised that at least one of them had legs.

 He tried to pull his arms out of the sleeves, to shed the suit, but his right arm was pinned by something sharp. And his left…

 The suit convulsed, pulling his left arm backwards. More backwards than it was ever meant to go. Something snapped and tore. Virgil cried out and fell.

 There was nothing for a few moments, the pain in his arm and shoulder taking his focus. Sweat broke out on his brow.

 Something crawled up his side and nestled inside his left sleeve, jostling his injury. He hissed. “Scott?” Nothing. “John?” More nothing.

 His left side was a mass of pain, so he gingerly attempted to move his right.

 He couldn’t. None of the controls responded.

 He attempted to move his legs.

 His body moved within his uniform, but the exo-suit held him still.

 Again he attempted to free his right arm from its exo-suit sleeve. That something sharp reminded him of its presence rather abruptly and he gasped in a breath.

 Spread-eagled on the ice, he was being crucified by his own equipment.

 He bit his lip, trying to calm himself and think.

 Scott and Gordon would notice his lack of response. They would investigate. He’d be out of this shortly.

 Something buzzed near his left ear and scuttled over his shoulder. His instinctual flinch away set his left side screaming again. He panted as the small mechanical creature crawled across his chest and across to his other shoulder, secreting itself just behind his neck. It made a chirp. Another chirp came from his left arm and something down there began moving.

 Virgil had never been so helpless and terrified in his life.

 Or so he thought until above his left arm, a fuzzy hologram of his beloved Thunderbird Two spat into existence.

 Oh, god. No, no, no!

 If this was some attempt to get his ship… He struggled and it blinked out.

 Scott appeared over the edge of the excavation and Virgil realised that his brother could not come anywhere near him. If these creatures were trying to hack the system, Scott would be their next target.

 He shook his head until he saw stars, his arm screaming at him, but Scott still landed. No, no, no, no! He yelled at his brother. Stay away! Please, Scott. No!

 No. Please.

 And the suit folded beneath him and wrenched his left arm backwards once again. His world whited out and he screamed.

 Then Scott was there. Virgil’s right arm was moving by itself and he had a millisecond to realise exactly what they were trying to do.

 His claw reached for his brother’s arm, its teeth wrapping around his bicep…No! Everything that he had and he forced his body to move just enough to create just enough momentum. The suit slipped a matter of centimetres in the icy dross, but it was enough for his brother to slip from the claw’s tightening hold.

 Scott scampered backwards, his eyes wide. Virgil heard him shout something into his comms, but his head was swimming.

 The sharp thing in his right sleeve twitched and stabbed directly through his fore-arm.

 The world went away for a while.

 -o-o-o-

 Scott landed on his butt in the snow, but his legs kept peddling, throwing himself backwards out of the reach of the claw now snapping repeatedly in his direction.

 “Virgil?!”

 His brother’s head was lolled to one side, his eyes closed.

 The claw was still reaching for him.

 He clambered out of the hole, putting a solid distance between himself and his brother and his possessed suit.

 The claw dropped to the ice and a mechanical insect about the size of his hand crawled across his brother’s chest.

 Mecha!

 The Mechanic! His eyes darted across the landscape, but there was only ice. And the downed air freighter.

 “Thunderbird Five, Thunderbird Two. Confirmed sighting of mecha. They’ve got Virgil. John wide area scan, can you find the Mechanic?”

 Shock from the other end of the comline was quickly followed by John’s strained, “Negative. The only unusual reading is that power reading we discussed earlier.” A worried breath. “It should be noted that there are now no lifesigns aboard the freighter.”

 “Alert-“ A sharp, green hologram appeared above his unconscious brother’s arm. “John, they’re trying to hack Thunderbird Two via Virgil’s wrist remote!” Thunderbird One’s idle roar was suddenly accompanied by a rising whine from Thunderbird Two.

 “Shit!” From Gordon.

 “EOS!”

 -o-o-o-

 At John’s panicked yell, EOS dove into the z-band network, flinging herself across space, seeking the familiar confines of Thunderbird Two.

 She was suddenly grateful for those moments she had spent with the ship and its pilot. Virgil, of the four other brothers, was the most like John. Different and somewhat difficult at times, he still seemed happy to speak with her and answer questions from time to time while doing maintenance on his Thunderbird.

 She knew TB2’s systems well and knew immediately what was not supposed to be there.

 They were like teeth with tentacles. A multitude of tiny little programs munching on the security system while the tentacles reached through the network seeking control.

 She threw up an electronic shield, drew a knife and started hacking.

 How dare these creatures invade her network. Teeth scraped against her, but she slashed and she burned. Get out!

 Her sensors registered the panicked movements of the second youngest brother as he made his own attempts to regain control of the ship. Unfortunately, he was hampering more than helping, so she cut off his access.

 There was a yell as the console sparked.

 She threw an apology at the comline. “Sorry!”

 But then her attention was taken by a renewed vigour from the invaders. They were attempting to reach around her and gain access to the propulsion systems.

 No, you don’t.

 Flaring out across the ship’s circuits like a tsunami of fire, she shredded the incoming commands, disabled the programs and abruptly severed the connection between Virgil’s wrist comm and his Thunderbird.

  The engine whine dissipated and Thunderbird Two settled back onto her haunches.

 She pulled herself back together, re-enabled pilot access, and sat threateningly in Two’s directive cache, ready for another assault should one come.

 “EOS?” John.

 “Yes, John?”

 “What did you do?”

 “Repelled the invaders. You once again have control of Thunderbird Two.”

 “How?”

 “Your brother Virgil’s remote access is no longer viable.”

 “Where are you?”

 “On Thunderbird Five. And Thunderbird Two.

 “Are you okay?”

 “Yes.”

 “Will you be coming home soon?”

 “I am home. However, I would like to shadow thunderbird Two’s systems until the possibility of further attack has been neutralised.”

 “Can you access Virgil’s exo-suit?”

 “No. That system is low level with minimal computing power. The mecha must be supplying the processing power and direction to take control.” She hesitated. Stepping outside the z-band network was definitely possible, but the thought frightened her. “I would need to invade their systems to take control and I have just severed the only direct link. To open the connection again would be enabling another attack…and the territory would be unfamiliar, John.”

 She could almost sense him thinking, considering her trepidation. “We may have to consider it a possibility, EOS. Virgil’s life is at stake. Would you be willing to try?”

 It could be her life at stake. She had won this time, on her own turf, but it hadn’t been easy. “Maybe. It would be dangerous…for me.”

 It was better than a no, but the silence at the other end of the comline set her worrying.

 The eldest brother’s voice cut through the conversation.

 “Oh, hell. They’re moving Virgil.”

 -o-o-o-

   Chapter 3

  Scott’s feet crunched on the ice as he stepped backwards. Down in the hole below, his brother’s body was standing up. Despite the fact he still appeared to be unconscious. It was definitely one of the most horrible things he had ever witnessed.

 His brother’s head lolled forward as the exo-suit forced him to stand. It rapidly became clear that there was more than one mecha attached to the suit. One for each arm and another on his right shoulder.

 The suit started climbing out of the hole.

 “Scott, get out of there!” Gordon.

 He still had his jetpack, he could flee at any time.

 But this was Virgil.

 And he was leaving a thin trail of blood in the snow.

 As the suit carried him above the edge of the excavation, the movement of his limbs must have drawn his brother back to at least a partial consciousness, as his head lifted a little, his dreadfully pale face a mask of pain.

 “Virgil?”

 “Sc-tt…no” A gasp as the suit straightened up. “Go..way.”

 As if to re-enforce his brother’s urgency, the mecha on his right arm suddenly detached from Virgil and flew directly at Scott.

 He stumbled backwards, activating his jet pack to the sound of a yell from both Gordon and John.

 He was not two metres off the ground when the mecha made contact.

 With his jetpack.

 It sparked, stuttered and he was suddenly falling. Snow and ice jumped up and bit him.

 “Scott! Move!”

 John’s voice fired all the neurons in his brain and he was moving, snow and ice flung up in his wake.

 Virgil was screaming.

 A glance behind him saw the suit staggering, attempting to run towards him. Something crawled down his left arm towards his remote control.

 No, goddamnit, no! He swiped with his other hand and the mecha went flying. Without hesitation, he took a leap and when it hit the ground, he landed his full weight on it. There was a satisfying crunch. He stumbled, but kept moving.

 -o-o-o-

 Virgil’s world was pain. Every movement was fire.

 But all he could see was the fear on Scott’s face. All he could think was what these things were trying to do. He couldn’t let…

 The devices had full control. They were using him to get to his brother and through him, control of his Thunderbird. He had no idea if Thunderbird Two was safe or lost. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t let…

 Scott had run out of ice. He was cornered. Gaping crevasses either side. His eldest brother was looking at him in anguish.

 He couldn’t let…

 The suit approached Scott.

 He couldn’t let…

 Shifting his weight on the next step, he overbalanced the suit. It slipped, falling sideways, his torso loomed out over open air. Another sudden shift and he sent himself plummeting down the crevasse.

 He had enough time to thank god before everything blanked out.

 -o-o-o-

   Chapter 4

  Scott screamed, reaching out. “No!”

 The suit trapping his brother disappeared over the edge and was gone.

 God, no. No, no, no, no.

 He staggered over to the edge, his comms yelling in his ears. He crept up to the precipice, terrified to look, but forced to by the tiniest amount of hope.

 About twenty metres down, his brother lay sprawled on his back in the snow. On a ledge next to a further hundred metre drop.

 As he watched, two mechas detached from his brother’s suit and flew upwards. He flung himself backwards, throwing his hands up to protect himself.

 They ignored him.

 Flying straight up, they passed out of sight.

 “John.” His voice was hoarse. “Can you track them?”

 “They’re gone.” The impreciseness of his reply betrayed John’s state of mind. “He’s still alive, Scott.”

 “He is?” His heart hurt so much.

 “That power reading is gone.”

 “They’re gone?”

 “They’re gone.”

 “John, you have Thunderbird One. Gordon, full altitude retrieval pack. Stretcher.” A pause. “And bolt cutters.”

 -o-o-o-

 It took Scott ten agonising minutes to reach his brother, both Gordon and John hovering above and on his comline. It took another twenty for him to extricate Virgil from the suit. There was some dark pleasure in severing the mechanical connections to ensure it would never work again.

 Then it was attending to the still bleeding puncture wound on his right arm – a spike of metal still protruding from it, spine and shoulder stabilisation, along with a full body splint for his left side.

 Virgil remained unconscious the entire time. No response. Once he was secured in the stretcher, ready to be pulled up by Gordon above, Scott cupped his brother’s hair in his hand, leant over and touched a trembling kiss to his forehead.

 His hands were shaking.

 “Gordon, haul us up.”

 -o-o-o-

 Hospitals varied. Fortunately, New Zealand hospitals were rated amongst the best. They ended up at Wellington Hospital in the country’s capital. Unfortunately, Thunderbird Two was too big for their helipad, so International Rescue would be footing the bill for lawn repairs at the local oval.

 But Virgil was still alive when they made it.

 He was still alive after surgery.

 He was still alive two days later.

 But he wasn’t awake.

 Tracy Island was in an uproar. Brains was completely beside himself with horror at the thought one of their family being tortured in the attempt to gain access to their technology by their technology.

 Both John and EOS were losing sleep in the attempt to track down the Mechanic. The fact they could not detect him anywhere, was frightening. The thought that this kind of thing could happen again was the stuff of nightmares.

 And there were plenty to be had. No member of the family was free of them. Scott fell asleep in the chair beside his brother several times only to wake screaming, the suit disappearing over the edge so many times.

 Virgil didn’t even twitch.

 -o-o-o-

 Sally Tracy had had moments in her life of true pain. She had lost so many members of her family, sometimes she wondered if she could bear losing another.

 Her second eldest grandson was almost as pale as the bedsheets he was lying on. One arm was wrapped in a bandage, the other in a cast. His dark hair was tousled and a contrasting smear against the white.

 Her eldest grandson was sprawled in the chair on the opposite side of the bed to her. His almost equally dark hair splayed out on the covers as he slept the sleep of the thoroughly exhausted. She’d only allowed him to stay because at the suggestion of a break he had almost fallen as pale as his brother.

 These two were a pair. Two pieces of a puzzle different to each other in a way that enabled them to fit together perfectly.

 Consequently, when one fell, the other one fell with him.

 Not to say the rest of the family fell any less. Both Gordon and John were haunted. They had refused to tell her the full story, but she had enough to give her nightmares already.

 She held Virgil’s right hand in hers, her fingers caressing his.

 “Dear Virgil.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “We so miss your music.” A hitch in her breath. “Please come back to us.”

 International Rescue was on full stand down. They were a mess. Brains had frozen all but the most necessary assets in order to give every piece of equipment a thorough security check and reinforcement. Kayo was caught between the security of the island, Virgil, and hunting down the Mechanic. Sally almost felt pity for him if she found him.

 Almost.

 Gordon was caught up in the ‘what if’ circular frame of thought. She was going to have to pin him down and have a talk with him at some point. Probably John as well. The astronaut had almost cut himself off from conversation, his only contact a random appearance from time to time to hover over his brother. With the security breach, Brains had demanded that both he and EOS return to Earth for safety. Both had protested rather loudly, but Scott had stepped in, and Sally suspected it was more the exhaustion on his eldest brother’s face that had made John relent than anything else.

 Alan had been out of contact on a mission at the time of the incident and had the unenviable situation of returning to a very different home to that from which he had left. There had been tears.

 Scott…wasn’t sleeping. He had craters around his eyes. The fact he was out cold at this very moment was simply due to the fact that his body gave out.

 “Grandma?” Two drowsy brown eyes were staring at her.

 “Oh, god, Virgil.” She squeezed his hand. “How do you feel?”

 He frowned. “Foggy. What happened?”

 She hesitated. “What do you remember?”

 The frown deepened. “Gordon hates snow.” Virgil’s eyes unfocussed a moment. “He wants to crash in the tropics.”

 A small smile. “Sounds about right.”

 “Where’s Scott?”

 She gestured in the direction of his brother.

 Virgil sluggishly moved his head. “Oh.” A swallow. “What happened to him?”

 “He’s just tired. He’s been busy.”

 “Huh.” Virgil’s eyes were drifting closed again. “Make sure he gets enough sleep. Or he’ll…get grumpy.” And Virgil was asleep again.

 She lent up and gently kissed him on the forehead. Turning, as expected, her eyes were caught by a pair of blue.

 She returned his tired smile.

 -o-o-o-

 It took weeks. Both for Virgil to recover and for International Rescue to get back on its feet. Scott tried his best not to think too hard about the possibility of lives being lost during that time because they were not available. All calls had been redirected through local channels and what little help they could give had been given.

 Virgil claimed that he didn’t remember much about the incident. He had been both traumatised and suffered a head injury from the fall, so it was entirely possible. Scott had chased it up with several doctors and the feedback all said the same thing. The scans said there was no damage, amnesia was a possibility due to the initial injury or for psychological reasons. The only way to handle it was to let Virgil take one day at a time.

 And so he did. First in hospital, then at home, then through the horrible rehabilitation period where he had to work both his arm and torn shoulder back to health.

 The day he finally sat in front of his piano and shakily tapped out a tune was an emotional one.

 Once all their equipment was thoroughly approved by both Brains and Kayo, the last remaining question was what to do with the rest of Virgil’s exo-suits.

 No-one else could use them, they were specially designed for Virgil’s rather large frame. Scott didn’t even want to look at them. He was still waking in the middle of the night with one of them starring in the role of ultimate nightmare material. But there was also the consideration of how many lives those pieces of equipment had saved, not to mention the fact that even while corrupted, that last suit had still saved his brother – it had broken his fall.

 Could they afford to deny themselves the use of this valuable equipment?

 In the end it was decided to ask Virgil. After all they were his.

 “What do you mean?” The question echoed around the hanger.

 “Do you think you would be comfortable using your exo-suits?”

 “Why wouldn’t I?” His brother was staring at him.

 Scott frowned. “You are aware of what happened with the last suit you used?”

 “Yes, apparently it got possessed, broke a few bones, stuck a hole in me, and threw me off a cliff. Your point?”

 “This isn’t a joking matter, Virgil.”

 “I’m not joking, Scott. Those exo-suits save a lot of lives. So a megalomaniac screwed around with the last one. Why should we deny innocent people help we can give them just because of that asshole?”

 “So you’ll have no problem wearing them?”

 “If I do, I’ll just have to get over it. There are more important things.”

 “You’re sure?”

 “Why is it when I make a decision you feel the need to get it in triplicate?”

 “Because I’m worried about you, Virgil.”

 “Well, you don’t have to be. I told you, I hardly remember anything. And I don’t want to be put in the position where someone is going to die just because I can’t get over myself.”

 Scott wondered if Virgil realised he had just contradicted his previous statement. If he didn’t remember much, what did he need to get over?

 “Okay. Then I’d like you to try one on, just to make sure you are comfortable.”

 “What? Now?”

 “No better time than the present.” So okay, it was a direct challenge, but then he needed to know his brother could handle this. It wasn’t something that could be left to the field.

 Virgil shrugged. “Okay.” He looked down at himself. “Just let me grab my uniform.” He disappeared up the stairs.

 Scott looked up at Thunderbird Two. Such an echo of his brother. She, too, had needed some repairs. EOS hadn’t been gentle when she had defended the ship. Gordon ended up with two small burns on his right hand and several important pieces of circuitry had needed full replacements. But as Brains, and later Virgil, had reassured her, it had been worth it.

 She had also stood in as an advisor as to what defences could be installed to prevent this from happening again. All their remotes had been reconfigured, their casings reinforced to the point that a nuclear warhead might not even reach the internal circuitry.

 The exo-suits – Brains and John had thought long and hard on that one. They were mostly mechanical, they enhanced Virgil’s natural body strength and took directions from his movement. As far as they could decipher, the mechas had managed to interface at that point – by trapping Virgil in the framework, he provided the support while the mechas provided the processing power and direction of the functions. This wasn’t something easily prevented. So they came at it from another angle. The new suits all had the capability to completely disassemble at will. Virgil should never be caught, unable to get out. A double switch was located in both sleeves, that when activated, the suit fell apart, freeing the wearer. No support equalled no zombie suit situations.

 There was the hiss of an object approaching at speed and he looked up to see the chute extender deploy. A moment later his brother shot out, fully dressed in his uniform, and flung himself into the cockpit of Thunderbird Two.

 The lower hatch deployed and Virgil walked over to him.

 “You know I think you really enjoy that.”

 “Yeah, ‘course I do. Who wouldn’t?”

 And no, Scott was not going to answer that.

 He led his brother over to the module bay and activated the door of Module Two. Without a word, they both entered and there, waiting to be deployed, was an exo-suit.

 They both stood there a moment. “Well, go ahead.” Scott gestured his brother forward.

 Virgil shrugged and stepped into the suit. A whirr of servos as it deployed, wrapping itself around his brother. Scott froze, his heart in his throat.

 The stuff of nightmares.

 He shook himself. He’d have to get over himself as well.

 Virgil was standing still, a blank look on his face.

 “Virgil?”

 He looked up. “Huh?”

 “You okay?”

 “Uh, fine.” He waved his claw around and flexed his pincer.

 Scott shivered.

 “Are you okay?” Virgil’s eyes had narrowed and were pinned on him.

 “I’m good.”

 He could tell Virgil didn’t believe him. His brother took a step forward.

 Scott took a step back.

 Virgil pressed his lips together. “Sure.”  Stepping backwards he disengaged the suit, slipping his arms easily from the sleeves, only to stop and freeze a moment.

 Scott waited. Virgil stared at his left hand. He mouthed a whisper Scott couldn’t quite hear.

 “Virg?”

 “Huh?”

 “Am I allowed to ask if you are okay?”

 His brother glared at him but didn’t confirm or deny anything.

 Sighing, Scott walked over to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “C’mon, Virgil. Admit it, this is going to take some more time.”

 A look, a flicker of vulnerability quickly masked. “I guess.”

 “What if we come down here every day and give it another go. Eventually we will get so sick of the sight of it, we won’t care anymore.”

 Virgil was looking at his hand again, distracted. “Okay.”

 He squeezed his shoulders.

 Not okay, but getting there.

 -o-o-o-

 Several degrees north of nowhere, the Mechanic sifted through the information the drones had captured. He had the codes, he had the capability, now he just need to find an out of the way place with the resources he needed.

 As his eyes landed on Gran Roca Ranch, he smiled.

 -o-o-o-

 FIN

[avacado-and-louie]

To clip or, not to clip?

Birds are designed for flight, with advanced body systems - their respiratory system takes in far more oxygen than mammals, their feathers are designed individually to serve a purpose on their bodies, they have hollow bones and a unique muscular structure. *Disclaimer* As a highly debatable subject i will say; this post is my opinion for keeping FLIGHTED companion birds. I will underline why people do clip and how, in theory (as i can’t vouch for every single pet bird case there is in regards to illness or certain situations) i like to work my way around these opinions.

Learning how to fly is basic for a birds mental health. If a bird has never had any experience in taking the first important leap into flying, how is it supposed to know what reaching boundaries are all about? A flegling learns what life is about through learning how to fly. What surfaces are safe to land on through trial and error, confidence building, and puzzle solving.

“Fledgling parrots have to learn how to fly, they aren’t given those skills instinctually and just like humans, learning how to run and walk, baby birds need time to practice and learn these skills. Parrots are FULLY capable of learning how to avoid glass doors and windows. Even in new environments they can see glass even better then we can. Most baby birds don’t know how to slow down and or turn around in time before they reach the glass, therefore smashing into it. It is very important before you take a bird into a room with glass, let it learn to fly, properly! First off, in a small, secure room so they cannot gain a lot of speed, and they can learn these necessary skills. Then taking your bird in a small room with a glass door or window. Taking your bird up to a glass door or win. Just like humans learning how to walk - baby birds need time to practice and learn these skills” (Lauren Hinds, bird enthusiast and free flight trainer)

Birds need to understand limitations, especially in a household environment to avoid any chance of injury. “If flighted territorial/aggressive birds are allowed free range through the house they’ll bite every one that isn’t their bonded human.” I hear this statement quite often as an excuse for clipping. This isn’t a behaviour that can be solved through taking away a birds ability to fly, this where teaching your bird limits and training comes into play - before this behaviour escalates to become a problem and harder to solve. This is especially important when teaching the bird which rooms are safe and which rooms they can’t go in, etc. Keeping your bird stimulated and showing them where they can and can’t be without supervision through various ways such as having playstands with toys, shredding materials, flight paths and recall training, socialisation, training equipment, diet enrichment when outside (and in) their cage. Birds are prey animals, therefore they have a strong instinct to avoid situations by flying away if they feel uncomfortable, especially when it is relying soley on people to get around. Taking that if you’d like, independance away from them, and forcing them to be with you can cause behavioural problems with confidence, fear and/or agression. Having a bird that is entertained and learning should give no reason to bite the first person that comes in the room. Not to mention fussy eaters who haven’t had the freedom of flight will increase appetite once they regain their power to fly and in return, will likely try new foods. Another reason people clip (and a good reason) is because their birds crash into walls, windows, mirrors. When i first let Av out of her cage for a fly she done just that. Same with Lou but it only happen one time until he got his barings. How i helped her learn to overcome that situation swiftly was pre training in her cage with target training. Taking her out straight onto a hand held perch was a safe place and really helped with getting her to land safely and get back in her cage. Whenever she made a mistake with hitting a wall, the best way to get over it is take the perch over to her, get her on it and place her back into the cage with no fuss and a soft quiet calming voice to lower stress. Straight away i encourage a flight route around the room to and forth her cage. This helped her navigate safely and get a handle on where she could and couldn’t go. Even though she wouldn’t let me touch her she knew it was safe to be around me and how to navigate through a human environment. So what I’m trying to say is this reason for clipping CAN be helped and i deeply encourage owners to try this.

Muscle atrophy is another issue that concerns me with clipped birds. Basically when a bird flies they strengthen their chest/breast muscles which in turn provide fitness and optimal oxygen and blood flow through their body. Birds need to use these areas of their body to stay healthy and a clipped bird getting ‘wing exercise’ via staying perched and flapping is not a way to do so as this does not use those muscles as they’re supposed to. Therefore ceased use of muscles turn into muscle wastage and they then break down if not used. “Clipped birds won’t escape through open windows or doors, and there is a higher chance of flighted birds flying away thorugh open doors windows.“ This is a total myth. I can’t express this enough. I feel like in some instances this can create a false sense of security with having a clipped bird, unless you have a heavily clipped bird (not reccomened as they can’t glide or get any lift) lightly trimmed wings will still get lift in windy situations. This means they can still make it out side through opened doors and windows. Now, in my opinion having a bird that is grounded and can’t gain lift to take off from predators, cats and dogs, wild birds and more susceptible to injury through being on the ground. Flighted birds however can escape these sitations and have the option to fly back to you or a nearby person or secure place. This is also another reason why i encourage taking your bird securely outside on a harness or in a travel cage so they get used to being outdoors. Also be familiar with recall training and descent landing, so they can likely land on you from flying down out of a tree with confidence. Even clipped birds should be taught this technique as they should still be able to glide their way down to you.

Like I said before, illness or situations where perhaps clipping could be necessary when trying to get a hold on solving certain behavioural issues such as repeated self injury is the only time i’d get a birds wings clipped. Keeping in mind, after a fully flighted bird has been suddenly grounded from flying - their main form of movement - this can cause insecurities, lethargy, depression and just general decreased happiness.

Whether you clip your birds wings or keep them flighted is up to the indivdual owner. I haven’t outlined every aspect of pros and cons here and this is a purely opinionated post but, i just hope you can think of the bigger picture here that is the wellbeing of your birds. Keeping parrots as companion animals does wonders for our lives, but would you really want to take away the thing that makes a bird, a bird - A happy balanced individual.

[element-effect-blog]

100 Inspirational Leadership Quotes To Make You a Better Manager This Year

Happy New Year, everyone!

Like many of our team, if you're taking on the responsibility of managing a team this year, understand one thing:

The best managers aren't focused on improving their ability to supervise, they're focused on improving their ability to lead. 

Almost anyone can be trained to manage, but very few actually succeed in becoming truly great leaders.

So, while the new year confetti is still settling and before you're neck-deep in the year's objectives, here's a little inspiration. 

I've scoured the Internet to find 100 leadership quotes to help you help your team unlock their full potential and drive results for your business in the new year.

Take these quotes, tweet them out to your followers, scribble them down in your moleskin, or heck, carve them into the side of your desk -- Ok, maybe don't do that.

Whatever you do with them, remember, a good leader doesn't simply tell people what to do, they give people the skills, tools, and guidance to do it better on their own. 

100 Leadership Quotes to Make You a Better Manager in 2018

“Followers think and talk about their problems....Leaders think and talk about the solutions.” - Brian Tracy [Tweet This]

2. “Those who let things happen usually lose to those who make things happen.” - Dave Weinbaum [Tweet This]

3. “If your actions inspire others to dream more, learn more, do more and become more, you are a leader.” - John Q. Adams [Tweet This] 

4. “A man who wants to lead the orchestra must turn his back on the crowd.” - Max Lucado [Tweet This] 

5. “A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops.” - Henry Adams [Tweet This]

6. “People buy into the leader before they buy into the vision.”- John C. Maxwell [Tweet This]

 “A company is stronger if it is bound by love rather than by fear.” - Herb Kelleher [Tweet This] 

8. "The key to successful leadership today is influence, not authority." - Kenneth Blanchard [Tweet This]

9. “To lead people, walk behind them.” - Lao Tzu [Tweet This]

10. "As we look ahead into the next century, leaders will be those who empower others." - Bill Gates [Tweet This]

He who has great power should use it lightly." - Seneca [Tweet This]

12. "Leadership cannot just go along to get along. Leadership must meet the moral challenge of the day." - Jesse Jackson [Tweet This] 

13. "Management is about arranging and telling. Leadership is about nurturing and enhancing."  - Tom Peters [Tweet This]

14. “The art of leadership is saying no, not yes. It is very easy to say yes.” - Tony Blair [Tweet This]

Leadership is the key to 99 percent of all successful efforts." - Erskine Bowles [Tweet This] 

16. “Don’t follow the crowd, let the crowd follow you.” - Margaret Thatcher [Tweet This]

17. “Leadership and learning are indispensable to each other.” - John F. Kennedy [Tweet This] 

18. “Leadership is the art of giving people a platform for spreading ideas that work.” - Seth Godin [Tweet This]

“Innovation distinguishes between a leader and a follower.” - Steve Jobs [Tweet This]

20. "Leadership is unlocking people’s potential to become better." - Bill Bradley [Tweet This]

21. “A cowardly leader is the most dangerous of men.” - Stephen King [Tweet This]

No man is good enough to govern another man without that other’s consent." - Abraham Lincoln [Tweet This]

23. "There are three essentials to leadership: humility, clarity and courage." - Fuchan Yuan [Tweet This]

24. "Not the cry, but the flight of a wild duck, leads the flock to fly and follow." - Chinese Proverb [Tweet This]

“To add value to others, one must first value others.” - John C. Maxwell [Tweet This]

26. "If one is lucky, a solitary fantasy can totally transform one million realities." - Maya Angelou [Tweet This]

27. "Leadership does not always wear the harness of compromise." - Woodrow Wilson [Tweet This]

28. "The greatest leaders mobilize others by coalescing people around a shared vision." - Ken Blanchard [Tweet This]

29. "To do great things is difficult; but to command great things is more difficult." - Friedrich Nietzsche [Tweet This]

30. “The first key to leadership is self-control.” - Jack Weatherford [Tweet This]

Earn your leadership every day." - Michael Jordan [Tweet This]

32. "There are three essentials to leadership: humility, clarity and courage." - Fuchan Yuan [Tweet This]

33. "The growth and development of people is the highest calling of leadership." - Harvey Firestone [Tweet This]

34.  "A leader takes people where they would never go on their own.” - Hans Finzel [Tweet This]

A boss says, Go! A leader says, Let’s go!" - E.M. Kelly [Tweet This]

36. "The supreme quality of leadership is integrity." – Dwight D. Eisenhower [Tweet This]

37. "I suppose leadership at one time meant muscles; but today it means getting along with people." - Mahatma Gandhi [Tweet This]

38. "Leadership - leadership is about taking responsibility, not making excuses." - Mitt Romney [Tweet This]

39. "The quality of a leader is reflected in the standards they set for themselves." - Ray Kroc [Tweet This]

40. "A good plan violently executed now is better than a perfect plan executed next week." - George Patton [Tweet This]

41. "Good leadership consists of showing average people how to do the work of superior people." - John D. Rockefeller [Tweet This]

42. "The speed of the leader is the speed of the gang." - Mary Kay Ash [Tweet This]

43. "Great companies in the way they work, start with great leaders." - Steve Ballmer [Tweet This]

44. "Great leaders are willing to sacrifice the numbers to save the people." - Simon Sinek [Tweet This]

45. "Anyone can hold the helm when the sea is calm." - Publilius Syrus [Tweet This]

46. "A great person attracts great people and knows how to hold them together." - Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe [Tweet This]

47. "I am reminded how hollow the label of leadership sometimes is and how heroic followership can be." -Warren Bennis [Tweet This]

48. "Become the kind of leader that people would follow voluntarily; even if you had no title or position." - Brian Tracy [Tweet This]

49. "When eagles are silent, parrots begin to chatter." - Winston Churchill [Tweet This]

50. "Don’t necessarily avoid sharp edges. Occasionally they are necessary to leadership." - Donald Rumsfeld [Tweet This]

51. “Real leaders are ordinary people with extraordinary determinations.” - John Seaman Garns [Tweet This]

52. "If you really want the key to success, start by doing the opposite of what everyone else is doing." - Brad Szollose [Tweet This]

53. "You get the best efforts from others not by lighting a fire beneath them, but by building a fire within." - Bob Nelson [Tweet This]

“A leader's job is to look into the future and see the organization, not as it is, but as it should be.” - Jack Welch [Tweet This]

55. "You get in life what you have the courage to ask for." - Nancy D. Solomon [Tweet This]

56. “A leader is someone who creates infectious enthusiasm.” - Ted Turner [Tweet This]

57. “Leadership is the capacity to translate vision into reality." - Warren Bennis [Tweet This]

58. "You do not lead by hitting people over the head - that’s assault, not leadership." Dwight D. Eisenhower  [Tweet This]

59. "I cannot trust a man to control others who cannot control himself." Robert E. Lee [Tweet This]

60. “Great leaders state out loud what they intend to do and in doing so, they get things done.” - Simon Sinek [Tweet This]

61. "Great leaders inspire people to have confidence in themselves." - Eleanor Roosevelt [Tweet This]

62. “Business leaders cannot be bystanders.” - Howard Schultz [Tweet This]

63. "Leadership is not about titles, positions, or flowcharts. It is about one life influencing another." - John C. Maxwell [Tweet This]

64. "If you spend your life trying to be good at everything, you will never be great at anything." - Tom Rath [Tweet This]

65. “The art of leadership is saying no, not yes. It is very easy to say yes.” - Tony Blair [Tweet This]

66. “What you do has far greater impact than what you say." - Stephen Covey [Tweet This]

67. "The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don't have any." - Alice Walker [Tweet This]

68. "If you want to lift yourself up, lift up someone else." - Booker T. Washington [Tweet This]

69. “To command is to serve, nothing more and nothing less.” - Andre Malraux [Tweet This]

70. "Leadership is intentional influence." - Michael McKinney [Tweet This]

71. “A great leader’s courage to fulfill his vision comes from passion, not position.” - John C. Maxwell [Tweet This]

72. "You cannot be a leader, and ask other people to follow you, unless you know how to follow, too." - Sam Rayburn [Tweet This]

73. "Trust is the essence of Leadership." - Colin Powell [Tweet This]

74. “A real leader faces the music even when he doesn't like the tune.” - Arnold H. Glasgow [Tweet This]

75. “When people are placed in positions slightly above what they expect, they are apt to excel.” - Richard Branson [Tweet This]

76. "The real leader has no need to lead — he is content to point the way." - Henry Miller [Tweet This] 

77. “A leader is a dealer in hope.” - Napoleon Bonaparte [Tweet This]

78. “The task of the leader is to get his people from where they are to where they have not been.” - Henry Kissinger [Tweet This]

79. "Leadership is the art of accomplishing more than the science of management says is possible." - Colin Powell [Tweet This]

“I suppose leadership at one time meant muscles; but today it means getting along with people.” -Mohandas K. Gandhi [Tweet This]

81. “Education is the mother of leadership” - Wendell Willkie [Tweet This]

82. “Leadership is the key to 99 percent of all successful efforts.” - Erskine Bowles [Tweet This]

83. “Ninety percent of leadership is the ability to communicate something people want.” - Dianne Feinstein [Tweet This]

84. "A good leader can't get too far ahead of his followers." - Franklin D. Roosevelt [Tweet This]

85. “You take people as far as they will go, not as far as you would like them to go.” - Jeanette Rankin [Tweet This]

86. "Leadership has a harder job to do than just choose sides. It must bring sides together." - Jesse Jackson [Tweet This]

87. “Leaders should strive for authenticity over perfection.” - Sheryl Sandberg [Tweet This]

88. "The first responsibility of a leader is to define reality." - Max De Pree [Tweet This] 

89. "Leaders don't force people to follow—they invite them on a journey." - Charles S. Lauer [Tweet This] 

90. "Leadership is getting someone to do what they don't want to do, to achieve what they want to achieve." - Tom Landry [Tweet This]

"A good leader leads the people from above them. A great leader leads the people from within them." - M.D. Arnold [Tweet This]

92. "Whenever you see a successful business, someone once made a courageous decision." - Peter F. Drucker [Tweet This]

93. "Management works in the system; leadership works on the system." - Stephen Covey [Tweet This]

94. "Example is not the main thing in influencing others. It is the only thing." - Albert Schweitzer [Tweet This]

95. "Keep your fears to yourself, but share your courage with others." - Robert L. Stevenson [Tweet This]

96. "Our chief want is someone who will inspire us to be what we know we could be." - Ralph Waldo Emerson [Tweet This]

97. "To handle yourself, use your head; to handle others, use your heart." - Eleanor Roosevelt [Tweet This]

98. "A leader is one who knows the way, goes the way and shows the way." - John C. Maxwell [Tweet This]

99. "Leadership is an action, not a position." - Donald McGannon [Tweet This]

100. "Surround yourself with great people; delegate authority; get out of the way." - Ronald Reagan [Tweet This]

This content was originally published here.

[windycityparrot]

Will controlling his hormones stop this blue front amazon from regurgitating seasonally?

Dear Mitch, Catherine, and associates, First thank you for the opportunity to contact you about my parrot, who's a BF Amazon, named "Dollar." I wish to add, I adopted him at 6 yrs old, and he wouldn't let me call him any other name than what it had been. So, he's a fabulously happy birdie, but several years in a row around this time of year, he begins to regurgitate and swallow, over and over again. He holds the top of a bell and raises and lowers his head like an oil well, only really fast. He'll pause and you can see there's part of his hoard coming down inside his beak, and he'll swallow it before he proceeds again and again. I've had him to two avian vets over the years, and had a blood panel done, and everything checks out fine, except last year he showed low in calcium, but I changed that up by using veggies with super high vit A content in every fresh meal he eats, usually twice daily. Kale is our staple, and I chop it so fine that he can't NOT eat it. His plumage has become more vibrant than ever. But even more notable is that gone are the minor seizures he'd have periodically.

The only cause of those according to my preferred vet as he had showed me in a book he had, was that with Amazons, possibly Blue and Front - can't remember--are prone to have idiopathic seizures. He prescribed sodium pentathol, and since I couldn't get him to take it, and the veggies I fed him seemed to be what stopped his seizures, I reported such to my vet, and I felt he was possibly cured of whatever imbalance I corrected within him. Each year tho, he regurgitates for quite a few months; but I just saw him have a brief seizure while having been ringing his bell up & down, up & down. It even seems like him doing that motion brings on the seizures some times; whereas during the periods of time when he never regurgitates, he never seizes. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U4ESvNYMipA The seizures are atypical according to my vet, meaning his eyes work like normal, his consciousness seems completely intact and aware of his goings on, his wings flutter open just a small amount and back to his body, over & over really fast--like twitches, and his feet stammer around a little bit, so that he can lose his footing a titch on a perch or walking on something uneven--never falling--but if he's on the ground when it occurs--he wants to climb on my hand as though he feels I can make it stop, or at least comfort him. Sometimes he'll go back to trying to do his bell while it's still going on; so he's not too bothered by the occurrences. It makes me think of him riding on some kind of neurological loop he can't just get off of. What's he eat? Nearly everything the first BF Amazon ate for 31 years before dying by accident: everything we eat, only I'm more picky with Dollar than my husband was with Chester. Dollar's mine so I have the right to say, and he gets RoudyBush pellets out of a bin, some dried fruit, seed, dried veggy & nut mix that the local bird store bags up, (no peanuts in the shell), and brita filtered water. His pooh is perfect. He's free flying inside of the house 24/7 except when we're not in the house, and then he's put into a 30 x 22 x 50" (guesstimate) powder coated bird cage that's about 10 years old, but well kept, and he has all types of perches w/toys everywhere in the house which I change some at least 1x/week. I love to take him on car rides but am petrified to leave him in the car out of fear someone will break in and take him from me, being that he's only ever in a cage in the car. I'd like your take on that scenario as well. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QFuae7fp0ck To sum it up: what's up with regurgitating in June thru as late as Sept? what's your take on his atypical seizures? do you believe it's safe for a parrot in a cage in an alarm activated car, or one running the a/c if necessary for brief periods of time? I need to be able to run errands--quick ones. My husband thinks people believe they're worth a lot of money and would want to steal him. I have all of the intentions in the world to do better by my birdie, and a desire to make him a care animal for myself; and that would require me training him on a harness and leash before ever putting the public in harm's way, and lord knows what else besides free flying out of doors.

I'm concerned for the public, as he's bit me a good couple of times, and goes after people's heads or ankles sometimes if he's stressed and feels threatened or that I'm threatened. I've only had him for 3 years, and knew my husband's bird for just 5 years. Other than that, for about a year I'd volunteered at the bird store to keep up with their boarders and birds for sale. I also bought ALL of birdtricks.com series of DVD's, which I've not gotten to watch since right after getting Dollar, my health and life went to total crap, so much so I've been struggling just to make it through each day, until recently when I'm trying to pick up the pieces of the mess; but know that my baby birdie means the world to me. I know we could have such a rich life together, (I'm 50 and he's now approx 9 years old). I'd love to create a sanctuary for pet birds, fund raise, grant write, etc, and become so much more versed and comfortable around all of them. My desire to do something for these birds is the reason I'm still alive...So can you help me Drs Mitch, Catherine, and associates? I do hope this will be a continuing and prosperous relationship between us. Thank you for your consideration and help--just for reading this! I wish you all the very best in what you do, and I'll become a patron of yours very soon. I'm excited:) HAVE A TERRIFIC DAY!!! Very truly yours, Elizabeth Oh, Mitch, I failed to mention how I wreak havoc on this poor fella's circadian rhythm. It's probably terrible to do--I hope not--but it could the pathway to fixing things. I have gotten myself into a messed up rhythm, and he's on my rhythm, in large part because of I want to enjoy time with him after work hours. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bG2y8dG2QIM Often he doesn't get "lights out" until midnight or 1am. It's just a soft lamp light that's on until bed time, but sometimes there's a 42" flat screen on that late, too. And, I usually come back into the kitchen, by 9 or 10am, and by then he's awake. He will take a siesta after those nights when it was only 6 hours, and that can be 1-1/2 hrs, and/or occasionally brief naps, like 15 minutes. I'm guesstimating. It's always been humans' hours, just as it was for the 31 years of the BFA before this one. Is doing that really THAT bad for him? And what time is best to do the uv lamp? And for 4 hours? His room faces a northern picture window. I hope that helps and I'm sorry I haven't the time to brief it! Thank you so much! Hi Elizabeth Short answer: Reduce the environment that awakens the seasonal hormonal behaviors by reducing the triggers that tell the bird’s body it’s time to reproduce. The triggers are excessive enrichment foods, lack of foraging opportunities, and longer daylight hours./ Alternative Tropican, along with a reduction in enrichment foods that are high in naturally occurring sugars,  can most certainly be recommended here, but the hormonal behaviors are triggered by more than food.

Hope all is well.- Melanie Melanie Allen is the Avian Product Specialist at Rolf C. Hagen and she pointed to some posts on the HARI site (Hagen Avicultural Research Institute). We both agree Dollar's hormones are out of control and his circadian clock need resetting. Your todo list just got big http://hari.ca/is-your-parrot-in-hormonal-overdrive/ http://hari.ca/is-your-parrot-in-hormonal-overdrive-part-2/ http://hari.ca/is-your-parrot-in-hormonal-overdrive-part-3/ Keep us informed Best mitchr I forgot the car thing. If it's really hot, and leave dollar at home. Nothing draws attention to a car more than one that is running with no driver. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IYG3rjtoojg If it's cool enough, we leave peaches in the car with the windows cracked and the cage covered. The cage should be covered except front facing when traveling with your bird so as not to overload it with stimuli.  Cover it completely when the sun goes down so all the moving headlites freak your FID (Feathered Kid) out. or take him/her into the store - every store has it's own rules about pets Click to Post